Entries tagged with grass

I have some time to breathe. About a week ago, whilst on Twitter with a pack (a snorkel? a CHUCKLE!!!) ~ a chuckle of Joker and Joker Blogs fans, they engaged with me in what would become my very first interactive fanfiction, where people helped with the dialogue between Joker and his....date. They also helped (especially gunslingaaahhh) with Heath movie history so I could include the best Heath ref I could in the story. While I was on Twitter with my chuckle of homies, I was also discussing site issues with rancid_rainbow (so glad she finally decided to let people know that she was the groovy webmaster over at TJB.com) and decided to get her involved. She is the one who suggested the new date be a psychologist. She gave the woman her first name, and she played a word association game with me to include in the story. I'll be posting the story here but, for right now, it's published at its true home, Rancid Rainbow.

Today, I'll have the honour and pleasure of mowing the grass. Nothing in this plane of existence pleases me more than mow the grass. I would spend the rest of my life trotting around in an ever decreasing circle, pushing a loud and obnoxious gas-powered tool from hell. Yeah, I just adore it.

For now, I must get ready to take Aunt Tudi to the doctor. She's crawling my butt right now to get ready to go. ::sigh:: Sometimes, that hermit cave is looking better and better.

Yes, it was another glorious day in the neighbourhood. It was either me or the grass, so I drug out the lawn mower and engaged in the most hated task in my life. Now, usually at this time of the season, I only have to mow the lawn once a week. I might can get away with waiting eight to ten days, even! Not this year. Because of the amount of moisture and heat we've already had so far, within four days, the grass is so thick, it's hard to walk through. After a week, the weeds are up to my knees (or what used to be my knees). Any time past that, and displaced Amazonian tribes are relocating to my back yard and fighting the cats for their food. This is typically what happens in July and August in the Armpit of Hell. Folks, it's only June. I don't even want to imagine what it's gonna be like in July and August. I'll have to be out there mowing every other day just to keep the subtropical overgrowth in check.

And fire ants. I've done everything I know to quash their invasion, up to and including environmentally unhealthy methods of extermination. Thanks to them, my Green Karma is very bad indeed. Because the grass gets so thick so quickly, I have no idea where the fire ant mounds are hidden. So, if I dare pause for any reason, chances are I'm standing on a fire ant mound, which means the angry little fuckers are immediately waging war on my poor pale legs. Have you ever been bitten by a fire ant? Most people think fire ants are called that because they're red. But they aren't. They look like your regular tiny black ant. The fire bit comes in their bite. And they don't just bite. They get into their biting. They latch on and start curling their bodies around in an orgasmic masticating frenzy. The longer they bite, the more it feels like a tiny fire placed into the area onto which they're attached. And you might think that brushing them away will make the pain disappear but, oh no. A couple of hours later, you're in for a world of hurt because a blister forms where their little hell mouth happened to be before. Around that blister is a wide circle of itchy red woe. This lasts for days. The more bites you have, the more horror you get to enjoy. All that said, I'm loathe to even hesitate in my own yard whilst mowing. I dash, screaming like a twelve-year old girl, pushing the lawn mower, and praying to whatever god might listen that I survive the heat, the ants, the vegetation, and the general unpleasantness that being in South Carolina presents.

That Creedence Clearwater Revival song "Run through the Jungle" might be about the Vietnam War, but it's also a very good metaphor for my ongoing war with my lawn here in the Armpit of Hell. Like I say every year, I need a goat.

Mood:drained

Where? home

Music:Sly and the Family Stone - Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

Monday is Manic, according to Prince (screw the Bangles).Tuesday is Tragic, at least this week, because it was the day I got to mow the grass on my 1/2 knee and my hubcap. Was gonna use the riding mower, after having tires repaired and the battery replaced but no. I went to drive the damnable thing out of the out-building and it had flat tire. So I ended up having to use the push mower on all the grass. Now my hubcap is a throbbing piece of space junk floating around in what used to be my left leg and my 1/2 knee is down to a third. Mowing season in South Carolina begins roughly in late February to early March and ends in late October. The only good thing about a season that long is that it serves to hone my Sithly rage to a nice fine point, especially if I accidentally find myself pausing on a concealed fire ant mound. And this leads me to a theory I have about Gnosticism. I believe it originated in South Carolina. A reader out there may say, "But, Tin, how could such a wise spiritual tradition originate in a shitpit like South Carolina?" It's my understanding that one of the tenets of Gnosticism is that our current existence is considered Hell and it's our great struggle to attain the wisdom of Sophia so that we can claw our way out of the Demiurge's twisted reality. Since South Carolina is the Armpit of Hell, it would stand to reason that this would be the ideal locale for a group of Gnostic thinkers to come up with such a half-assed theory. I'm all for it, personally.God may have shuffled his feet for the Crash Test Dummies, but he took a dump at some point in time and South Carolina came into being.I'd hobble off to hell now, but I already live here, so I'm sitting my ass down and drinking some cold water while I glare at the pestilence flying past my head.This fragmented PSA is brought to you by the number 3 (the number of times I twisted my ankle mowing the grass) and the letter P (for piss off).

A big thank you to everyone who has commented, offering up concerns/energies/thoughts/prayers/whatnot. It's all most welcome and appreciated. Aunt Tudi is fine with people throwing their mojo in her direction, as she can use all the mojo she can get and she knows it. I'd respond to each comment if I could, but I haven't had a moment to myself since around midnight last night and it's looking to be the same way this evening. I'm stopping just long enough to check mail and give an update, then I'm off to my final Dollar General interview before I'm placed in a store at 5, and then I'm off to the hospital to take Aunt Tudi some things.

As it stands now, the docs are pretty sure it's her medicines doing her in regarding the potassium and creatine levels. I'm supposed to take all her meds down tonight so the doctors and sort through it all and make adjustments as needed. Aunt Tudi's potassium is going down, but very slowly. She's had to drink four more shots of that skanky goo and, as a result, she's spent the goodly part of her day in El Water Closet. A kidney specialist came to visit her today and he seems to think that her problem is the medicines and not her kidneys. That's a relief. She's had an echocardiagram and some other tests that I can't remember what she said they were but, all in all, Aunt Tudi's being well-taken care of.

I worked through lunch, came straight home and set to mowing the grass. After an hour in 100+ degree hell, I came in and peeled my wet clothes off, started a washing, and jumped in the shower. Ten minutes later, I jumped out of the shower, dried, wrapped my hair in a towel, gathered some of the things Aunt Tudi needs at the hospital, then threw the washing in the drier and tossed another load in the washer. I then got a bowl of Rice Krispies and popped online to check mail and write this. Once I'm offline, I need to get dressed and slap on some make-up for my final entrance interview. I'm off to Duncan to talk to Tami, then off to the hospital to spend some time with Aunt Tudi.

I figure I'll be home by 8 or 9 tonight. When I get home, I need to put up the clean clothes, feed the cats and, of course, get myself online to check email and do some writing here. Tomorrow will be here before I know it, which sucks big hickeys on the ass of Satan himself.

It started out with my tearing up my bedside table, trying to turn off my alarm clock. For some reason, I thought the alarm clock was somehow connected to the lamp, so I was knocking the lamp to and fro while the alarm clock kept going and going and going.... GAH! After I got my act together, I got ready for work and left at five til 6:00. Thanks to the traffic lights being kind, I got to work with a minute to spare, at 5:59. Yeek, what luck!

The drink machines were ravaged over the weekend, so I emptied my drink cabinet. Once the drinks were done, I fill up the snack machine and pulled the stales out of the cold food machines, then fill them up with whatever leftover food I had after the weekend guy had done his thing. Pickin's were slim. I and everyone around me were looking forward to Jeff, my delivery dude. So I finished up with the food machines, double-checked the coffee machine for everything it needed, filled up the condiment containers and spork holders, then filled all the napkin holders. I flew through it all and didn't even break a sweat, which was unusual, because I sweat like nobody's business every morning when I'm doing my canteen attendant duties in the morning. It took me a little under two hours, then I collapsed in the booth I commandeer each morning to work on my Monday orders.

About an hour later it occurred to me that I hadn't checked the gum and mint bin in the snack machine. I checked it and it was seriously low on both Certs and the Doublemint gum. So I went to my cabinet and was collecting what I needed when I turned to find my boss, Brian, standing there. He scared the crap out of me because I wasn't expecting a person to be standing in the dark hall where all my supply cabinets were relegated shortly after I began working at R&oumlautchling. After I pulled the skin I'd jumped out of back on, I asked what merited me a visit from my fearless leader. Turns out, he needed cold food. I told him I didn't have any until Jeff came by, but I'd call him as soon as Jeff arrived. He seemed happy with that, and with how everything looked in my neck of the woods, and off he went to wait for my call.

Shortly before 11 am, Jeff came with my daily goodies. I got only three trays of cold food, which meant I'd have nothing for Brian, nor would I have enough to do my peeps at R&oumlautchling. Jeff tried to call him on his Nextel to let him know, but he couldn't get a signal in the cellular black hole that is R&oumlautchling, so I called Brian and gave him the bad news.

As soon as I got off the phone with Brian, Aunt Tudi called me. Her doctor's nurse had called her about the bloodwork that was done last week with Aunt Tudi's visit. It turns out that her kidney function was pretty much nil and her potassium was out the roof. Her bloodwork was so back that Dr. Adams-Hudson wanted Aunt Tudi to go down to Spartanburg Regional's outpatient center to have the bloodwork done over, in the event the first readings were nothing but a fluke. She told Teresa, the nurse, that she wouldn't be able to make it down to Spartanburg until after 2, when I got off work, and Teresa said she'd let the lab folks at the outpatient center to look for Aunt Tudi after 2.

I left work about 10 til 2 and dashed off to pick up Aunt Tudi. I had her down to SRMC by 2:15 and she went straight back to the lab. She may hear something about the results this evening, so we're keeping the phone open in hopes the doc will call tonight. While we were in the Med Lab waiting area, I took a picture of the magazines available for people to read while waiting to have their blood drawn. This is the reality of living in the Bible Belt.

After Aunt Tudi had 14 gallons of blood sucked out of her body, we headed back to Lyman to pay our car insurance, then back to the Duncan Bank of America to pay on the home equity loan. Coupons in our hot paws, we bounced across the street to Taco Bell, where we got us a free taco each. And now we're home, noshing on some fast Mexican food, and waiting on the phone to ring.

When we got home, I had a call from Tami at Dollar General. She's wanting me to come in to the store at 5 PM tomorrow to discuss options. The main office took so long to get my paperwork straightened out that the position for which I applied is no longer available. They want me to work for them, but it's just a matter of being placed. I told her that it needed to be in Duncan or as close to Duncan as possible, because that's why I initially applied for the job. She said that she wanted to work with me as much as possible to get me the position I needed, so I'm going to talk to her about it at 5 tomorrow. If I can't get a job at least 10 miles or under away from home, I can't take the job, because the gas I'd have to pay for to get to the job would pretty much void any income I may pull in from working there. It's a good thing I got an application at Taco Bell while we were there getting our free tacos. Driving 1.5 miles to Taco Bell isn't too shabby, even if I am getting minimum wage.

After Judge Judy, I have to go out and mow the grass. If I don't die, I'm coming in and drinking 50 gallons of ice water, then take a quick shower and pretend it's a long luxurious one. We're under a mandatory water conservation alert because of the drought. Showers aren't included in this, but I'm keen on conserving in any and every way possible. I have a keen imagination, so I can easily have that wonderfully long shower in my mind, even making it a waterfall under which I find myself blessed. In RL, I'll be in and out, toweling down and powdering like crazy before someone can say "Irish Spring!"

To top this lovely day off, Aunt Tudi broke the horrid news to me that Morgan Freeman has been severely injured in a car accident and is currently in serious condition somewhere in Mississippi. When she told me this, I could barely see for the tears in my eyes, which wasn't a good thing, since I was driving. I've loved Mr. Freeman since the Electric Company years. He's alway been like a member of my family and is definitely a father figure to me. If he dies, I'm gonna be a wreck. My mind is dwelling on Morgan Freeman's health and Aunt Tudi's health. Everyone I love is declining, it seems. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw everything aside and run far far away.

I'll leave this crazy post with a clip from the Electric Company, featuring Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader.

**EDIT**: The doctor just called and wants Aunt Tudi to go to the emergency room. Her kidneys look really bad and her potassium is dangerously high. So.... Any prayers, magick, thoughts, or whatever is very graciously welcomed and appreciated.

I've been a posting fool today. Don't know why, but I figure it's all good unless I'm offending readers. If that's the case well EXCUUUUUUUSE MEEEEE!

We had a thunderstorm right before 5:00 PM and it rained like a sonamabeetch. I could literally hear my grass growing in response to the heavenly offering of H2O. So it looks like I'll be mowing grass tomorrow when I get home from my EEG. My life is so much fun right now. I literally ponder the favourable points of swift and painless death when I'm out pushing that lawn mower around and around my yard until I get to the middle where the worst grass is there to torment my efforts. I swear, I'm going to drop dead mowing grass. And I'll be thrilled as I gaze down at my prone body, because I'll know I won't ever have to do that crap again, unless I'm completely wrong about the existence of Hell. Then I'll be busting that place wide open where a large, heavy lawnmower awaits me so I can mow grass for all eternity, with no water and no rest breaks. Gads, that's too horrific to think about for very long at all.

Hm, I see they're remaking Brideshead Revisited. Why? Wasn't it done perfectly the first time? I mean, really, Anthony Andrews totally owned the role of Sebastian Flyte. Nobody can outdo him. Do you hear me? NO.BODY! I may catch the flick when it comes out on DVD, just out of curiosity. There's no way I'd spend the money to see this in the theatre, like I have money for a movie like that but, if I did, I'd go see Batman Begins.

Henry. I've been thinking about him a lot lately. It's been 6 years since his passing and I still miss him terribly. No dog will ever add up to the absolute greatness that defined my blue-tick beagle boy. When I brought him home, that night he had a seizure and I had to rush him to Dr. Patch, who came back to the animal hospital from home around 9 PM to check my baby out. It turns out that the seizure was caused by worms. Henry had worms so bad that it caused him to react in an extreme way. Doc gave me the meds Henry needed, welcomed my baby to the WSCAH world, and sent us on our way. So I was thinking that maybe I have worms. Maybe my seizure was caused by worms and all I need is to visit Dr. Patch and be done with the whole thing. It worked for Henry. Maybe it'll work for me.

As mentioned at the beginning of this long and boring ramble, I am scheduled to have my EEG tomorrow at 3 PM. This is the last test I'm supposed to have before I go back to see Dr. Pilch on 6 August. I'm supposed to see Dr. Keith the day before that but, if I don't drum up $280 from somewhere, I'll have to cancel that. I really need to have my shoulder checked out by him. I'm sure he'll want to do an MRI since rotator cuff issues usually can't be seen on X-Ray. That's another $1000 or so. Maybe I should seriously consider bankruptcy, throw my hands in the air, and pray for a swift, painless, and merciful disability claim. Or death. There are no wacky knees or godawful shoulders in the Summerlands, or at least that's what I've been led to believe over the years.

Aunt Tudi is wanting me to post a message to my Friends List. She'll be working on what she wants to say tonight after I crawl off to bed and then I'll post her message sometime tomorrow, if I survive the EEG and mowing the grass. That is, if paul_kiss doesn't beat me to the lawnmowing. I've promised him some Southern Comfort on many levels if he scampers off from Russia to the Armpit of Hell and cuts my grass.

Smidgen just did an incredible impersonation of Thumper. I think she was wanting to scratch, but her leg just went wonky and flew off in a crazy direction. I'm not surprised, though. Smidgen has been acting the fool ever since I let her in about 30 minutes ago. I mean, really, her eyes are all pupil and she's in full Greebling eradication mode. It's kind of scary. I love my Smidge, but she's a tad challenged mentally.

I really need to go to bed, but I don't want to because I know that, when I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock, it'll be time to go back to work. I'm beginning to find the job unpleasant. There's no challenge to it, I get only complaints about things beyond my control, and lifting those trays of bottled drinks (24 drinks per tray) is murder on my shoulder. By the time my shift ends, I'm in tears from the pain. Not good. Sith don't cry. Maybe I'm going Jedi in my old age. If that's the case, then it sucks like Star Trek's Hickey Monster from season one (see icon). Get that chick some salt yo!

Smidgen is now doing a Greebling attack victory dance in front of the TV while Aunt Tudi and I try to watch Scare Tactics. Smidgen is a scare tactic unto herself. What a perfect little kitteh.

That's it for me. I'm going to find a midnight snack and then I'm sacheting off to bed. I've taken some pain medicine for the shoulder and knee, and I plan on having an insomnia-free eve. Well, that's the plan. We'll see if I'm successful.

But not without a large cost to my physical well-being and my sanity. As I write this, my left knee cap is once again transforming into a hub cap. Ow. Just....OW. About two-thirds of the way through the task, I had to stop and replenish my liquids and decided to take some pics of how hideous I am when I mow the grass.

That last picture captures perfectly how stymied I really was by then. Once I was actually finished, I had to wring out my pony-tails before I could come in. I was that sweaty. And I had grass bits stuck all over me. And I itched all over. And I was blowing red mud outta my nose. But I finished right before 9 PM, as I predicted. By the time I hobbled in, twilight was giving over to night and the shower was calling my name.

Now I'm squeaky clean, but my face is still red and I'm still a little stymied. I....HATE....SUMMER....

I have to cut it today. As I've said before, I'd rather be smoking it. But, since I have none to smoke and way too much to cut, I'll be mowing instead of toking. Life is unfair, yes it is, yes it is. Our sunset begins at 8:32 DST, so I'm going out at 7:30 to use the lawn tractor first. I'll be thirty minutes on that, doing Uncle Michael's back yard, the field, and my front yard. Then I'll get out the push mower and do the trimming of the front yard and all of the back yard. I should be finished up a little before 9 PM, if I don't stop to mop sweat or drink anything cool and refreshing.

Words are insufficient in expressing my hatred for Summer and all things related. It needs to go away. The Earth needs to be knocked off Her axis to where we're hardly exposed to the sun at all. Yeah, it'll mean certain death for us all, but at least we'll die cooler than this inferno.

The school thing wasn't a go today, so I'm having to split it up between tomorrow morning and Thursday morning. Ain't that grand? Bah! After I leave there tomorrow, I've got to swing by Llew's work so he can use my computer for a PowerPoint project. None of the equipment or computers they have at work have that capability, so he came to me. I'm also due to go visit Llew at home tomorrow after work. There may be some serious naughtiness to write about after tomorrow night so, if you want on my 'naughty filter,' let me know. If not, you're good.

I had a bowl of cheerios for supper. It's too hot to eat anything even remotely warm. The cheerios hit the spot in a way that I never imagined. I feel fulfilled and energised after having ingested approximately one cup of "doughnut seeds." If they'd been the Honey Nut Cheerios, I think I would have burst out into the yard to sing like Julie Andrews in the mountains of Austria. Yeah. That dramatic.

Aunt Tudi just thumbed her nose at me after I told her to shut her pie-hole, so I promptly flipped her a bird. Family togetherness and love: that's what it's all about.

Twenty-five minutes until I have to go out and be microwaved by the giant ball of fire in the sky.

My grass is almost a foot high because I can't imagine going out in the godawful heat and humidity to cut it. It is once again that time of year where I ponder the advantages of purchasing a couple of goats and letting them go berserk on my lawn. Of course, my usual honed ability to think up colourful metaphors for how hot it is here has been dashed upon the jagged rocks of moad_terran_hq's creativity. When he mentioned that it was "slap dough under your arms and make stank bread hot," not only did he force me to fall hopelessly in love with him, but he also hijacked what was normally my little niche of ingenuity: that is, describing how horrible the heat is in ways that make others weep and cackle simultaneously.

But I can't stop griping about the heat just because I've been outdone by moad_terran_hq. It's too hot not to gripe about it.

The current temperature is 83 with over 50% humidity. The temperature really isn't that bad right now, but the humidity is what makes it worse than it actually is. It's bad enough that the ladies (Smidgen, Shmoop, and Motley) are indoors, stretched out like noodles on the floor. It's supposed to get up to 92 today and, honestly, I'll be surprised if we make it there since it's already after 4 in the afternoon. But tomorrow.....tomorrow is supposed to be 98 or even hotter.

The family is gathering for a cook-out late tomorrow afternoon. In order to avoid the heat (like that's gonna happen) and be together at sunset in order to set off fireworks for the kids, we're gathering up at Uncle Michael's and Janice's around 6 PM. The way I see it, I will be chewed on by flies as I broil in the hot, wet heat until the sun goes down. Then, I will be chewed on by mosquitoes and have my nerves rankled by asplodey things and screaming kids. Oh yeah, I'm looking forward to it. I'd rather just sit in the dark and the cool of the bedroom and ponder the destruction of all Humanity. Heat makes me want to move the Alpaca Lips along a little faster than it's currently developing.

I need a large pool in which to dive nekkid. And I'd pee in it, or say I did, so no one else would encroach on my personal space.

Get up early..GAH! Don't wanna. Clean up my act and head for the SC Employment Commission office for a mandatory job-hunting class. I have to be there at 9 AM and the class lasts approximately two hours. Since I talked to the lady who leads the class last week, she told me that I need only remind her that we've already talked and she'll sign my unemployment book and let me get the hell out of there instead having to wait for a one-on-one interview we've already had.

After that, I must call the credit card insurance companies and have the required paperwork sent to me so I can file my unemployment claims with them. It's been a month almost since I left The Pit, so it's time to move on that little bit of loveliness.

I may then mow the grass, with the grass catcher, and make the yard surprisingly clean and pretty for Aunt Tudi to "ooh" and "ahh" over. Besides, I need to get my physical obligations in order before my Moon begins and my body falls into several large pieces on the ground.

But I have to be finished with all that hooha by 8PM tomorrow night 'cos, at 8, there's a season 1 retrospective show on LOST and then, at 9, the season 2 premiere comes on. I'm all over that like a rat's nest on a gnat's knuckle. I expect that I'll be hearing from Cherise during the show. We must to scream at each other during the commercials.

I got to feeling a wee bit better and went out to mow at least some of the grass. I got all I could reach with the lawn tractor mown to a decent height and will do entirety of the front, back and field on Thursday or Friday, after the rain comes and goes. Now, I'm really quite chugged up from all the pollen outdoors and my sciatica is doing a job on me. I see a doctor's appointment in my immediate future.

Muh.

Mood:unwell

Music:Weather Channel informing us that the entire Gulf Coast is going to drop off into oblivion

I'm celebrating my recent release from The Pit with a fantabulous sinus infection. My head feels like a gigantic balloon, stretched well beyond capacity. Muh. The grass still hasn't been mown ~ maybe this afternoon if I'm feeling better. I haven't been online since early Friday afternoon. Right before my exit interview, our server went down again, so I had no access. The Feudal Mistress was eager to see me go, so I left early Friday, shortly after 4 PM. Tomorrow or Tuesday, I have to go back and sign off on the rest of the paperwork. Then I wait approximately 2 weeks for my severance. This will prevent my going anywhere or doing anything until I have that money. Damn...another DragonCon missed.

I'm tempted to poke myself in the face with a safety pin, just to deflate a little. It may hurt, but it'd be worth it.

Yesterday afternoon, after Aunt Tudi and I returned from Hell Wal-Mart, Little Michael came by to sharpen the blades on my lawn tractor. Now, three weeks ago, when I went to get the tractor out to mow the grass, Agro the agriculturally pregnant cat, was in labour in my out-building, so I couldn't start the tractor up. When Little Michael, pulled the tractor out, I noticed that the kittens were still in the building and they were absolutely terrified by the loud motor on the mower. I checked them all out, all five of them (no wonder Agro was so huge!), and noted that they have the same eye condition that Shmoop had when I yoinked her away from Agro. They're not old enough to deal with antibiotics yet. As long as they're nursing, I need to let the natural antibodies in Agro's milk try to help them. If that doesn't work, when they start coming to the back yard for food, I'll start administering meds to them. There are two ginger kittens, one tabby, one black, and one pale pastel calico and grey. The calico and grey is the runt. She still has little bald feet! Agro was highly disturbed that her maternity ward had been compromised and promptly began moving her babies. I was able to get a picture of three of them before she returned to pick up another.

I hate we scared the babies like we did, but at least now I can get the lawn tractor out and do what needs to be done without disturbing anyone else. Speaking of which, I'll be mowing grass right after work. May the Great Goddess have mercy on my soul.Today, I'm wearing a shirt that Todd bought for me back in 1988. I've worn it off and on to work ever since, and I thought it would be appropriate to wear it today, my last day here in The Pit.

Thanks to falkenna, I am currently reading The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. I'm usually a slow reader, not because I'm illiterate, but because my mind runs much faster than my eyes and I tend to skip sentences, sometimes whole paragraphs, so I backtrack somewhat, especially with books I want to absorb thoroughly. Such was the case with The Great Mortality. I probably read the book twice because I constantly backtracked and poured over each word like it was gold. Now I'm reading The Da Vinci Code and it's a pretty quick read because I know where it's going. It's essentially a novelisation of the much more profound Holy Blood, Holy Grail. This is not to say that it's just fluff reading. I think it's a fantastic primer for anyone curious about the hidden history of Jesus Christ and his family line, and I believe without a doubt, that Jesus does have a family line that is still alive today. What the members of this royal family are intent on doing, or what the arcane powers that be plan on doing with them, is still up for conjecture. It could go either way, really. Their imminent revelation may be the dawn of a true new age or it could mean a drastic step toward global enslavement. Only the Illuminati know for certain.

Anyway, I'm about half way through the book and am really quite enjoying it since it's like a revisiting of mysteries already well-known. I can't ever thank Timothy enough for turning me onto the Templar Mysteries. He hasn't read The Da Vinci Code yet, so I really must pass the book on to him once I'm finished.

Today, I'm wearing a new tee I got at the company store for two measly bucks. I'm very happy with it and am amused by the baffled looks I'm receiving from my already uneasy coworkers.

Of course, because of my current reading material, combined with the fact that I recently saw National Treasure, it occurred to me how convenient the highest degree in Freemasonry is: 33.3. The Grand Masters are only half evil aren't they? Baaahahahah!

Seriously...I would be interested in discussing all these mysteries with B, if I can actually speak without swallowing my tongue and passing out.

It's been almost 3 weeks now since I mowed the grass. Tomorrow is THE DAY. It's supposed to clear out and cool off later on this afternoon and tomorrow is supposed to be cooler and breezy, with considerably lower humidity. So I go forth into the jungles that was once my finely manicured lawn. It's really a nightmare. I'm not lying. I have proof.

And I need to cut the suckers off my contorted filbert. They're taking over the front porch. The one thing I'm not cutting back are the morning glory vines. I adore morning glories as they're simple and beautiful, yet mostly unassuming, and they herald the coming Autumn.

This week isn't passing quickly enough. I awoke this morning thinking it was Thursday. Suckage. To top it off, I hear through the grapevine that El Bastardo Supremo, Pat Robertson, has opened the shithole he calls a mouth and suggested American operatives assassinate Hugo Chavez. Someone needs to crush him with a large block of cement.

Of all the Fundie assholes out there, it's Pat Robertson I despise the most. He always has this smug little half smile on his face while he preaches his hatred and stupidity. Would that I could slap that sneer off his ugly face. I cannot sufficiently transform into words how much I hate this man. He's a con man, a liar, and the epitome of religious evil.

In other news, the Feudal Mistress isn't here yet. She's officially 15 minutes late. I should suggest to personnel that she get docked in pay not only for being late, but for also being a bitch. During my first hour here in The Pit, I packed up the remainder of my stuff. All that's left are my coconut guardians and my mistletoe. They won't leave until I leave on Friday. I may bring in a smudge stick to cleanse the cube so I won't have any residual psychic connection to the place. All I'm going to leave behind is the sticker that says "Jesus was a pacifist." Maybe someone will take it to heart.

Today is supposed to be rainy and cooler than it has been lately. Then it's supposed to dry out considerably. Either tomorrow or Thursday will be my best bet to whip the lawn into submission. The property looks abandoned, the grass is so high, which is uncool 'cos I live there!

That's all I got for now. That and some more pics of B. I'm gonna have to upload all these to his site this weekend. That would be faboo.

I really want to stay up and watch Battlestar Galactica tonight, but I also really want to curl up and die as early as possible once I'm allowed to go home and stay there. I know I could tape BSG and watch it tomorrow, but watching it in real time is part of the experience for me. I can't explain it. Battlestar Galactica and Lost are two shows that I would much prefer to see during their air time. Maybe I'll take a nap, get up for BSG, then curl up and die. That may work.Becky likes ELO. She's 21 and likes ELO. She didn't know who they were, but she'd heard "Evil Woman" before and liked it. For the first half of the day, my young friend was rocking onward to my CD. I'm impressed with her and her taste in music. The fact that she's so young and has just been grooving to Jeff Lynne's tunes threatens to restore a shred of my faith in humanity....just a shred.The upper portion of my back is having mild muscle spasms. Not so bad that I'm immobilised, but bad enough to take my breath. Being a female of child-bearing years sucks big hairy ox balls. Every month, my body just decides to fall all to hell, my mood is worse than it usually is, and I get weepy. Weepy. Sith don't weep. We kick pooty-tang and laugh about it. We aren't supposed to fucking weep.To top off my already shit day, the Feudal Mistress gave me a project in rifling through all the POP on a printed list that's about 1.5 inches thick, and figuring out what we can scrap. I did a scrap voucher for all the old New Release catalogs then, with Becky's help, sorted through the POP by label and created an Excel spreadsheet that included the selection number, artist, title, and quantity of each item. It's been a day long task. Only now was I able to forward the list to the offending parties who haven't yet gotten their crap outta here. Now I must wait to hear back from everyone as to what we can toss and what must remain; however, after next Friday, it's no longer my problem. Yay!My weekend is pretty much planned out. Saturday, I'm sleeping and trying to recover from my heinous state of womanliness. Sunday, I'm mowing grass for the first time in two weeks. Of course, mowing is dependent on whether or not it rains. If it rains, the grass will continue to grow out of control. My front yard looks like Jordy Verrill's in the movie Creepshow and that ain't purdy.Right now, I'm looking out the window watching a thunderhead literally boil. That's pretty cool.

I awoke on the tail end of a conversation Aunt Tudi was having on the phone. When she hung up, I asked who who it was and she told me it had been Todd, who had called wanting to talk to me. So I called him back. He wanted to tell me that he'd finally gotten around to watching Eddie Izzard's "Dress to Kill." Of course, he's now addicted to Eddie. Since my conversion to Eddie by green_goblin70, I have converted five people. And Todd is keen on showing Eddie to others, so he'll be converting people soon enough. Eddie is like the comic Sadako. Once you've seen him, you're compelled to pass him along like a video virus. Yes, he's just like that.

It was around 10:30 I woke up. Right now, I'm waiting for the grass to dry out enough so I can cut it. It's currently 87 degrees with 61% humidity. That's not as bad as it has been, but it's still seriously uncomfy outdoors. I had pinto beans with a dollop of cheese for breakfast. Woe unto the Earth in about two hours. That's all I have to say.

Llew is coming over later this afternoon. He's going to ply me with a chicken quesadilla whilst I show him taped episodes of last season's Battlestar Galactica. He'll be staying the night. When I invited him, he asked me if this meant he was off probation. No, I told him. I don't know when or if he'll ever be off probation. There's a lot of healing to be done there. I'm considering this night a gesture of good faith and good will. We'll see how it goes.

I'm thinking about putting my Star of David back on. It's been years since I've worn it and I've had this urge to don it proudly. I just hope I still have the silver chain that goes with my pendant. I need to drag out my silver cleaner and clean my Star of David, too. There's black on it...that just won't do. My motivations for reconnecting to my Jewish heritage are my own for now. I'll write about it more later.

By the time it stops raining and I am home to cut the grass, it shall be 5 feet tall and evolving into a number of Triffids that shall chase me about as I push my lawnmower. I've seen it in a prophetic vision.

This cat (I think she is Shmoop's mum) has been extremely pregnant for a very long time. I mean agriculturally pregnant. So I named her Agro. Aunt Tudi and I were really starting to worry that she was unable to give birth because she was so increadibly large. No more worries. When I went to the out building to get the riding mower for my weekly regimen, I saw her at the back of the enclosure, in labour and nursing a wee ginger kitten. Finally! What a relief!

But...I couldn't start the riding mower because the building is once again a maternity ward.

I used the push mower to mow all the grass and sprained my ankle for my troubles. Blaaaaagh!!! But the grass is all mown, I've had my shower, and I'm looking forward to seeing the new babies in the next few weeks. I'd give my right breasticle if I could capture Agro and have her spayed.

The dogs are scheduled to be boarded on Friday so Aunt Tudi and I can head for Moncks Corner. Smidgen and Shmoop will be staying home with an abundant basin of food and the communal water cooler. They'll be happier at home instead cooped up at the vet's office.

It took me from 2 PM to 4 PM, but I did it. I cut it all, including Uncle Michael's field. I had to take a few breaks to replenish liquid, and I found myself quoting the Roaming Gnome on several occasions ("Am I going to die?"), but I completed my task. My left knee aches like a sonnamabitch and I have a heat headache. And now for the highlight of this post. Here's what I looked like after I'd finished mowing the grass.

Now I get to go cut grass for the first time in a week and a half in 90 degree temps and high humidity, whilst having my Moon. Hopefully, I will die out there and then someone else can worry about the grass...and work...and life...and shit.

I have begun the monumental task of adding tags to all my back entries. I'm still uncertain why I feel I should bother, but it's something to do in between the bits and dabs of work that come in.

So far, I've tagged all the entries for June of 2002. I really have my work cut out for me.

As for cutting grass when I leave The Pit, it ain't gonna happen. The sky just turned black, after being mostly sunny all day long, and now it's raining. I foresee an evening of relaxation, playing with Shmoop, talking to Cathy on the phone in between storms, and an early bedtime. Whooptee-damn-doo!

**EDIT**Strike that going to bed early bit. It's Lost night! I can't go to bed and miss Lost!

Despite my miserable state of womanliness, I was planning on mowing grass this afternoon after we got back from picking up Chester from the vet's office, but it's raining now like a cow pissing on a flat rock. That means I won't be cutting grass that now has gotten a boost of growth. It's growing so fast now, I'm up to every four days. Pretty soon, I'll be mowing every day just to prevent the Amazonian tribes from moving in and shooting me with poison darts on my way out to the car. I hate Summer with an unparallelled passion, yes I do.

My boss wanted me to work from 8 to 5 today. No one is around to give me anything to do and I'm bored out of my head. I was hoping to leave at 4 so I could cut the grass for the last time this season before the night fell. Looks like I'll be mowing in the dark which will further add to my reputation in the neighbourhood as a weirdo. I wonder if anyone has ever equated Aunt Tudi and me to the Klopeks from the movie 'The Burbs'?

Good news ~ Henry had his stitches removed today and the doc gave him a clean bill of health. Even though he's older than god, my dog pal seems to be doing quite well. Whooo!

I got the grass cut...finally! I've learnt something: an abundance of rain and extreme laziness does not a pretty lawn make. I think the breaking point for me was when I received an email from President Cardaso telling me that he was planning on relocating a small Amazon tribe to my back yard. I really wouldn't mind this except for the poison darts flying about, ya know? So down came the grass. I gave Mr. Cardaso the bad news and, even though I'm no expert on Portuguese, I do believe he proclaimed a pox on my house. Little does he know that I already have a pox on my house. This is the only way to explain the deluge of bad luck on me and mine so far this year.

But I digress. The grass is cut, my dog is on the mend, and I'm pooped. Off to bed!